


Out of your system

by strebe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angry Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strebe/pseuds/strebe
Summary: Steve's had a bad day at work. Bucky just might be the cure.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 174





	Out of your system

**Author's Note:**

> dont read this if you havent read the tags and dont fully understand what you're getting into here!! 
> 
> tagged as dubious consent due to a slight struggle due to annoyance at the beginning, but bucky is enthusiastically willing afterwards and throughout the rest of it
> 
> vaginal sex is tagged because bucky has one - thats the only change in his physical appearance 
> 
> all of this is jaes fault

Steve slams the front door behind him when he gets home. Bucky looks up from the fancy risotto recipe he’s been reading on their iPad, still absently wondering whether or not it’s worth a trip to the store because oven pizza two nights in a row isn’t that bad, right? 

“Steve?” Bucky calls, setting the tablet down on the counter in anticipation of a lack of response. After the ensuing grunt from the front door, Bucky wanders into the hall to see what superhero drama the boy-wonder brought home with him today, and is met with the sight of a slightly mussed Steve Rogers dolled up in the stealth edition of the Cap suit, aggressively rifling through the mail he brought in with him. His hair’s messy in a way that means he’s ran his hands through it more than a couple of times, and he’s got that frustrated crease between his brows that always makes Bucky wants to reach out and smoothen it with his fingers. As Bucky watches, he tears a letter in half, grumbling something about junk mail. 

“Hey,” Bucky says, eyes darting from Steve’s tight jaw and blazing, unfocused glare all the way down, both scanning for injuries and blatantly checking him out. Steve gives another noncommittal grunt in response. Bucky’s eyes lift back up to Steve’s stormy expression. “You didn’t change.”

“Nothing gets past you, Buck,” Steve says to the letter in his hands. 

Bucky decides to let that one slide, partly because of Steve’s obvious bad day that he had, in fairness, been warned about via Nat, and partly because seeing Steve in that suit makes his brain go all mushy in a way that makes it a total wonder how he used to be able to keep it together long enough to fight alongside him in the field. 

“Well why not?” Bucky asks, dragging his gaze away from Steve’s exposed forearms, glad he chose to retire when he did before the final lurking thirst gene finally kicked in as the last straggling lobe in his brain thawed out. Barefooted housewife suited him a lot better these days. Not that he would admit that aloud – to anyone other than Steve, anyway. “What was the rush?”

Steve doesn’t answer, obviously wanting to be left alone to disappear into his own head so he can continue to work himself up into a lather of righteous rage in peace. Bucky just standing there staring at him seems to compel him to change his mind, and after a second, he exhales heavily, crumpling and tossing a flyer onto the ground. 

“I had to get out of there. I was doing that thing, the one you keep telling me about, you know, deep breaths, counting to ten.” Steve nearly tears their electricity bill in half as he pulls it from the envelope. “Removing myself from the situation.” 

“Behaving rationally, yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Bucky says, stepping a little closer. 

Steve gives a snort Bucky would not hear if he wasn’t artificially enhanced, and then he finally actually looks away from the mail he’s reading to distract himself and at Bucky for the first time since he stormed in. Bucky blinks back at him, looking vastly more civilian in his loungewear and loosely tied apron, and they both just stare at each other for a second. 

“I interrupt something?” Steve asks after another beat, eyeing him like he’s found something else to distract himself with. Bucky shifts on his feet, pulse picking up just a little. 

“Found a recipe that looked good for dinner,” he says, shrugging.

“‘Least you could do,” Steve says, looking back at the bill in his hands. “Bleeding me dry here, Buck.” He’s teasing, albeit dryly, which is a good sign, but Bucky bristles anyway because he’s still got that bite to his tone that makes him want to bite back. 

“Talk like I live here on my own,” Bucky says, folding his arms. 

“We don’t keep the thermostat on seventy-five for me,” Steve says back, digging at him. 

Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve, who wins the intimidation contest automatically by way of just how he looks. It’s been a while since his last shave, too, and it’s. Working for him.

“Nat texted me about some argument that broke out today. Warned me you’d probably come home upset,” he tells him.

He doesn’t detail the fact that her exact words were a suggestion to make him something nice for dinner to help take his mind off things and also that in response, he’d virtually flipped her off for speaking to him like some 50s homemaker – and then started googling recipes, yes, but still. It’s the principle of the matter. 

Steve looks more agitated than before, like Bucky knew he would be. “What are you, signed up for status updates? I don’t need managing, Buck.”

“Quit taking your shitty day out on me then,” Bucky says, his own jaw ticking because he’s _trying_ here and Steve’s just spitting venom back at him. 

“I’m not taking anything out on you–“

“You’re yelling at me, is what you’re doing. If you wanna talk about it, let’s talk about it instead of getting pissy with me for no reason,” Bucky tells him, getting frustrated with Steve’s unending frustration. “I’m not just gonna stand here and take it.” 

Steve gives the smallest laugh –– a short exhale laced with condescension, really, and looks Bucky up and down again, slowly. “Tough guy, huh?” 

“You’re an asshole, Rogers,” Bucky says, turning and walking back the way he came because he refuses to allow Steve to make _him_ look like the dramatic one in this exchange. He’s already mentally ordering a burrito from that place they both like for dinner instead, emphasis on _a_ burrito, Steve can starve for all he cares – and then, so suddenly Bucky gives an undignified squeak, Steve’s clearing the small space between them, spinning Bucky back around, and then shoving him back against the doorframe he had just nearly cleared so their faces are barely an inch apart. 

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky hisses, shoving at him. Steve grabs at his wrists, pinning them by his head. 

“Hey now, don’t be like that. Where you going, huh?” Steve’s crooning, voice softer now, eyes bright and glinting dangerously. “Wanna put me in a good mood that bad, I’ve got a couple ideas for you,” he says, a hand slinking away from where it’s got him caged against the wall to grope Bucky’s Fabletics™-covered ass. 

“What do I look like, some stress-relief plaything?” Bucky huffs, still squirming to work his way out of his grasp. Steve just crowds him even more, getting even closer. 

“Listen to you, all uppity like you don’t love being fucked like one,” Steve tells him, ducking his head and nosing along Bucky’s jaw, at the tufts of hair behind his ear. Bucky shivers, and Steve hums low in his throat, hands all over him. “Remember this morning? Screamed yourself raw you wanted it so bad, greedy little thing that you are.” Bucky swallows, hand against Steve’s chest, pushing without much effect as Steve breathes him in, like he’s utilising Bucky’s anger-management suggestion but with an added twist. 

“What are you–“ Bucky begins as Steve sniffs at him. 

“Mm, that’s sweet. That that brand-name conditioner you like spending my money on so much? Hey, easy, easy,” he adds with a chuckle when Bucky shoves at him harder. “Just teasing, dollface, just teasing.”

“You done?” Bucky bites, trying and failing to get his heart-rate under control, hand bunched up in the spongy fabric of the stealth suit’s overlay. 

“What, already? You calling me a quick draw?” Steve asks with a smile. Bucky feels it against his skin, where he’s started to press wet, disarming kisses, brighter now he seems to have remembered that sex exists and that Bucky is right here, in a figure hugging cotton-spandex blend and would most likely let Steve do whatever he wanted to him right here in this entryway, despite his posturing. “What do you think?” Steve says, pressing closer so Bucky can feel his cock, hot and hard against his thigh, and understand better the picture Steve is trying to paint here. Bucky gives a groan and Steve takes a mile, sliding his other hand up Bucky’s back to toy with the knot of his apron, undoing it singlehandedly. 

“Think that’s not a gun in your pocket,” Bucky says, voice thick and breathy as Steve ruts against him, slowly melting away his icy exterior with every nip of his teeth against his flushed skin. 

“There you go. Not just a pretty face, huh?” Steve murmurs, wrapping a hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, and then pulling him in to kiss him flush on the mouth. 

He bites at Bucky’s bottom lip, licking into his mouth, wet and urgent, before tossing the apron away and slipping Bucky’s shirt over his head and onto the ground. Bucky’s breath come in quick pants, heat rushing downwards and making him pliant and needing, leftover traces of annoyance washing away as his body shifts against Steve’s, pressing against him, rocking his hips up even as Steve keeps him locked against the wall. 

“That’s it, there you go,” Steve’s crooning, hands all over him, grabbing at Bucky and then moving him, shoving him back into the kitchen where Bucky’s ingredients and utensils are still scattered. “Thought about you all day, you know that? Thought about coming home to you just like this, in that apron, using that pretty body. My perfect little wife.” 

“You’re a fucking – _nghh_ – asshole, Rogers,” Bucky pants again, voice strangled, blunt nails digging into Steve’s arms as he gets him up against the dining table. 

Steve laughs, fucking _laughs_ , then flips Bucky around so his palms reflexively come to hold himself up against the cool marble. And then his lips are against his ear, nose bumping against his flushed as Bucky reels. “What’s the matter, hm, baby? Had a bad day, said it yourself. You don’t think I deserve this?” He breathes, his hand slipping south to cup the part in question, pulling Bucky’s body back against his as he does so so Bucky can feel him, pressed right up against him. 

“Humohgod,” Bucky slurs, already aching. 

“Yeah honey,” Steve breathes, just rocking into him, hot even through his clothes. “You really wanna talk stress relief, you’ll come to work with me next time. Get you just like this in my office, huh? Pretty ass in the air, fuck that tight little pussy loose, get it all red and swollen. Thought I was taking it out on you before, you got no idea.” 

Bucky goes for a coherent response but all that comes out is a cracked whimper that Steve chuckles at before sliding his hand back up, then down again, into Bucky’s pants this time. Bucky’s warm all over and burns even hotter at the low noise Steve makes when his fingers find their purchase, pressing two thick fingers into his cunt, working him over with a steady rhythm that makes Bucky’s knees give. 

“That’s it, angel. Look at you,” Steve says, guiding Bucky forward with his other hand, so he’s leaning forward against the table, propped up his elbows instead. “All wet, practically drooling for me. You miss me today, sweetheart?” Bucky shivers as Steve works his fingers in and out of him, thrusting deep, his other hand rubbing over the expanse of Bucky’s back, touching him everywhere, before gathering Bucky’s loose ponytail in his fist and tugging harshly. 

Bucky gasps, jerking a little in Steve’s strong hold. “Uh- _huh_ ,” Bucky pants. 

“I know, honey. Sucking me right in,” Steve croons, and then tugs Bucky’s yoga pants down, just below his ass, leaving his underwear on, just pulling them to the side so he can get at what he needs. Bucky burns red. “Yeah, that little pussy needs to get fucked, huh, baby?” 

“Steve–“ Bucky croaks, squirming because _Jesus Christ_ , but Steve holds him down firm, hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. 

“Nuh-uh, let me see that pretty little pussy. Soaked right through your panties. That why you can barely let me get a minute to myself the second I’m in the door? All over me ‘til I’ve taken care of you, isn’t that right?”

Bucky whimpers, head spinning, and then Steve’s rubbing his fingers through his slit, murmuring a low, “That’s my girl.” Then there’s the shuffle of Steve pawing at the fly of his suit, and the sound of a button clattering onto the floor before Steve pulls his fingers out and grabs Bucky’s hips, the other hand taking a firm hold on Bucky’s hair to keep him in place. Bucky’s keening, hiking his hips up as he feels the blunt, fat head of his cock against him, sliding against his slit like he’s slicking himself up before he’s fucking into him with one rough shove. Bucky’s mouth falls open, nails scratching at the marble tabletop, letting himself lay lax against the table as Steve slides all the way in, easy with how wet Bucky is for it, and then draws out and fills him up again. Bucky takes it, grunting softly at the stretch, at the way Steve barely gives him a second before fucking him into the table. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Bucky gasps, beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead as Steve pounds into him. “Oh- _fuck_ -“

“That’s it,” Steve says, voice tight, fucking him deep and mean and bruising, drawing these high, embarrassing noises right out of Bucky’s throat every time he shoves into him just right. 

“Oh my God,” Bucky moans, mouth hanging open, voice broken. Steve leans over him, his lips on Bucky’s neck, sucking deep, dark bruises into his skin, and Bucky moans so loud it makes him absently hope the windows aren’t open. Steve’s hands paw at Bucky’s body, his hips, the meat of his ass, the curves of his waist. “Steve– oh– oh – _oh_ –“

“Mhmm,” Steve hums in response, hand sliding along Bucky’s arm, his fingers settling on Bucky’s ring finger, twirling the band, the casual possessiveness making Bucky’s head spin as he drives into him, the noises he’s making, kittenish and broken, making Steve’s thrusts a little sloppier, harsher. “Fuck, listen to you. That’s good, huh? Don’t gotta think about anything, just let me take care of you. Want you like this all the time, all fucked out for me.” Bucky practically chokes on his own breath as Steve rocks into him _just right_ , so fucking _deep_ , with that steady, unyielding pressure that makes Bucky lose his mind, _fuck_ it feels good, it feels so good he can’t breathe.

“More, want– gimme it,” Bucky pants, arching and writhing and pushing back, making Steve laugh, breathless and quiet. 

“Jesus. Greedy thing. Gonna come? Hm, baby? Already?” Steve’s asking, like he’s taunting him, like he’s goading him, thrusting into him shallowly now, defiance for the sake of it. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Bucky moans. “Steve– _Steve_ –“ is all Bucky manages before Steve’s burying himself to the hilt in and making Bucky’s eyes roll back into his head, and Bucky can hear it, the wet-suck of how slick he is, Steve wasn’t kidding, he can feel it dripping down his thighs. Steve’s balls slap against him with every stroke, making his head swim, making him feel slack and open and _full_ , so goddamn full, until he’s fucked stupid, can’t think of anything else but the fat head of Steve’s cock shoving up against his sweet spot over and over and over. “Yeah,” Bucky slurs. “Steve, _yeah_ , _fuck_ –“

Steve slides his hand beneath Bucky and presses his fingers against where his cock is pounding into him, slippery and hot, rubbing right where Bucky’s sensitive and swollen, in tight, torturous circles that knock the breath right out of Bucky, make him keen high in his throat. 

“ _Ah, ah, ah,_ ” Bucky’s whining, open mouthed, panting. “Steve, _oh_ , don’t stop–“

“Demanding little thing,” Steve’s growling, breath hot against the back of Bucky’s neck, and then he gets a hand around Bucky’s throat, just loosely, but it sets Bucky off, pushing back against Steve as he comes, sobbing Steve’s name. 

“Jesus fuck, that’s sweet. Milking me dry – good girl, good fucking girl,” Steve groans, and drives into him deeper, rolling his hips against Bucky’s ass until he’s spilling into him too, hot and wet. 

“Oh my God,” Bucky says, panting, still trembling. “Fuck – holy shit.”

Steve presses kisses to his neck, humming quietly in agreement. “But enough about me. How was your day,” Steve says after a moment with a satisfied sigh, sounding lazier now. Bucky’s eyelids flutter open again, trying and failing to stifle a smile. 

“You’re a dick.”

“But you already knew that, baby,” Steve says innocently, rolling his hips again for emphasis, peppering more kisses along Bucky’s neck.

“Unbelievable,” Bucky breathes, rolling his eyes – partially involuntarily, but still. “What happened today, huh? Ready to use your words? Fucking caveman.”

Steve sighs again. “Nothing. It’s stupid anyway.” 

“ _Now_ it’s stupid, huh? Could’ve used that realisation twenty minutes ago.” 

“Sure you could’ve,” Steve snorts. “I saw how you were eyeing me the minute I walked in here. Probably been gagging for it since I left.” 

Bucky flushes. “We can’t all get out kicks from adrenaline all day long.” 

“I know, baby,” Steve says. “You’re real good to me, you know that? You know how much I love you, Buck? Know there’s no one else out there for me?” Steve’s asking, even as he’s grinding into him again, slow but steady and so deep Bucky feels like he’s going to choke on it. 

“Do I know,” Bucky huffs, breathless. “Think I’d let any fella off the street give me this kinda treatment?” 

“I don’t know, Buck, would you? Do you? Must get lonely around here sometimes,” Steve says. “It matter, hm? Matter who’s fucking this slutty little cunt open or is it all the same, so long as you’re getting yours?” 

“Don’t start,” Bucky says, shivering, but Steve’s already going faster, just a little, Bucky’s cheek rubbing against the now-warm marble of the dining table as he’s tugged back and shoved forward. 

“What? I’m not starting anything. Just asking honey, that’s all,” Steve rumbles along with the deep drag of his cock against Bucky’s spot. He tugs Bucky upright all of a sudden, his grip tight on his forearm, turning him on his shaky legs and and pushing him back down again, cock slipping out of him so he can lay Bucky down on his back. He looks at him, eyes on Bucky’s face as he slides back into him, watching Bucky’s eyes flicker shut, legs spreading wider for Steve. “This mine, Buck? All mine?”

Bucky swallows, the pleasurable thrum low in his gut getting headier by the moment. “ _Yes_ , you know it is, you’re a fucking – _fuck_ – son of a bitch, you know I’m yours, know what matters and it’s not some dumbass at – _hngh_ – work.”

Steve shoves him back a little, fucking into him all the way. “Mhm. I know,” he says, and Bucky knows that’s the most on the situation he’s gonna get out of him, at least for now. Steve leans down to kiss Bucky, tongue sliding wet against his, dicking him with more intent now that he’s gotten his ego fed a little, making Bucky moan into his mouth. Steve grins. “Listen to you. That feel good, Buck?” 

“Uh- _huh_ ,” Bucky breathes, arching beneath him, and then Steve’s pushing his knees up against his chest, fucking breathless little mewls out of him.

“Good,” Steve says. “‘Cause I’m not done with you yet.” 

Bucky’s gonna send whoever pissed Steve off a thank-you card.

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
